


"Day 4: Yoga!Verse "Downward Facing Dean"

by emmyloo03



Series: Destiel Smut Brigade AU Challenge [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Lisa and Dean are an established couple, M/M, Masturbation, fantasy hand jobs, mechanic!Dean, misuse of Downward Facing Dog, shower masturbation, yoga!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 05:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2257734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyloo03/pseuds/emmyloo03
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is a yoga instructor.  Dean is an auto mechanic, dating Lisa Braeden.  When Lisa drags Dean to Castiel's class, Dean is more interested in the lithe instructor than he is in the yoga, but he is with Lisa, so he must content himself with fantasies.  For the moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Day 4: Yoga!Verse "Downward Facing Dean"

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta'd, any mistakes are mine  
> This is for Adele, who has been hounding me for months to write this verse

“But yoga is for girls”, Dean said plaintively. 

He cringed at the tone of his own voice and stole a glance over at Lisa. Sure enough, she was glaring at him from the passenger side of the impala’s front bench. 

“I swear to God, Dean, you’re worse than Ben sometimes!” 

The exasperated glare was sufficiently chastising and Dean hung his head briefly before looking back out the windscreen at the source of his discomfort. The Yoga Studio wasn’t a very imaginative name, but it got the point across well enough. A modest building, nestled in between a pizza joint and a mom and pop hardware store, painted a pale yellow with the name scrawled across the large window that took up the majority of the storefront, dean supposed it was nice enough looking. He sneered at the advert for a vegan bakery in the window. He didn't know where it was in town and he didn't care to. Dean was sure that the root of all evil could be found in a vegan bakery. How anyone could go through life without burgers was beyond him. Lisa cleared her throat pointedly and Dean glanced over at her again. 

“You agreed to this. I think it would be a great way for us to spend some time together and get closer in our relationship. Yoga has done wonders for my spiritual well being as well as my physical well being.” 

Dean managed to avoid rolling his eyes or gagging or running off down the street during Lisa’s impassioned speech, but it was a narrow thing. Lisa rolled her own eyes skyward as she watched him squirm. 

“Please, just one class. Let’s start there, ok? Ninety minutes and then we will see.”

Dean glanced out the windscreen again, watching a pair of women with rolled up mats tucked under their arms walk up the sidewalk and into the studio. He supposed one class wouldn’t kill him. When this whole thing failed, and it would, it would be his turn to suggest the couple’s building exercise. Of course, he’d prefer to just skip the couple’s therapy mumbo jumbo all together. He heaved one last sigh and opened the impala’s door. The hinges sang comfortingly as he just barely refrained from slamming the door. It wasn’t Baby's fault after all. Dean crossed the sidewalk like a man approaching a firing squad and held the door open for Lisa, who had her arms full with the two yoga mats. The cowbell hanging off the door handle jangled and the redhead at the counter looked up. 

“Hey Lisa. This must be the elusive Dean I’ve heard so much about.” 

Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly, taking in the sleek laptop she was tapping on and her t-shirt that said “I’m Waiting For Hermione Granger” on the front. 

“I like your shirt,” he grunted out. The urge to run for the hills was only getting stronger, but it was a pretty cool shirt. The young woman smiled brightly and chirped, “Thanks! I’m Charlie, by the way. Lisa is so great. I keep hoping she’ll come teach here with us, but she shoots me down every time.” 

Lisa smiled and shook her head. “You know I prefer to keep my practice separate from my teaching, Charlie. I don’t ever want this place to feel like work, I love you guys too much!” 

Her laughter pealed out and Dean wondered how far he could get before she noticed he was gone. It wasn’t so much the exercise as it was the touchy-feely spiritual mumbo jumbo that had him spooked. Charlie must have noticed his discomfort, giving him a tiny wink while Lisa stowed her bag and shoes in a small cubby along the wall. Dean shrugged and tried not to look utterly defeated as he toed off his own shoes and stuffed them in alongside Lisa’s. He followed her through a doorway into the large room that made up the rest of the studio. There were quite a few people already stretching and contorting themselves on mats lined up in neat rows, all facing a single mat centered along one wall. Lisa set them up near the back of the studio, unfurling their mats a foot or two apart. Dean stood there and watched her, feeling like a jackass in his sleeveless AC/DC shirt, gym shorts, and bare feet. He stole a glance around the room, taking in the other occupants. 

There were people of every age, shape, fitness level, and color. There didn’t seem to be much of a pattern with regards to who seemed to be more adept as he watched people warm up. A slim girl strained to touch her toes while a heavier woman seemingly folded herself in half with ease. There were a few men in the group but they were grossly outnumbered. One older man was all elbows and knees as he hugged his knees to his chest and rolled from side to side. Dean felt a tug on his pant leg and glanced down to see Lisa sitting cross-legged on her mat. He scrambled to sit the same way on his mat and tried not to feel anxious. This was worse than when Sam was learning how to drive Baby. 

Lisa leaned over toward Dean and whispered, “Try to follow me or others around you. If you feel overwhelmed, you can drop into Child’s Pose anytime.” 

She demonstrated the pose for him, her legs tucked under her body with her arms outstretched and her forehead on the mat. It looked a little like praying to Dean and he wondered what that had to do with children. She popped back up into her original seated position and smiled as she patted his arm. “I’m really glad you agreed to come Dean. I think you’ll get a lot out of yoga if you just give it a chance.” 

He gave her a patented Dean Winchester smile. It was only ninety minutes after all. He could survive ninety minutes of anything. Hell, Sam’s high school graduation had been twice that long. Dean looked around the room again, curious about the instructor, who had yet to make an appearance. As if his thoughts had conjured the man, he appeared from a doorway at the far end of the room, near that lonesome yoga mat. From this distance, Dean only got a vague impression of dark hair, stubble, tan skin, and a lithe runner’s body. The man greeted a few people in those first rows before dropping onto his own mat. The noise level in the room dropped quickly as people all moved to emulate his position, sitting cross-legged like Dean and Lisa already were. 

“Welcome everyone,” the instructor began in a surprisingly deep baritone. “Do we have any newcomers to yoga here today?” 

Dean glanced around, determined to wait for someone else to raise a hand first, but Lisa elbowed him sharpy in the ribs and he raised his hand resignedly. Blue eyes met his as the instructor noticed his raised hand. His eyes crinkled around the corners and his lips ticked upward in a half smile as he acknowledged Dean with a slight nod. “Welcome to yoga. I’ll try to go easy on you.”

Forty-five minutes later, Dean was certain the guru or whatever was messing with him on purpose. The guy kept repeating himself, telling them to do the same poses over and over again. If Dean had to do one more Downward Facing Dog or Cat or freaking Camel, he was going to scream. And how many warriors were there? He counted at least three different ones so far and he was sure that was just the tip of the iceberg. Sweat was pouring down his face and he was curled into the pose Lisa had shown him, kids pose or whatever. He laid there, his arms outstretched and shaking, and just panted. He glanced under his arm at Lisa and was disgusted to see her balancing her whole body on her arms in some weird approximation of a frog with her knees sort of hooked over the backs of her arms. Her head was tipped forward to balance the rest of her body, so she didn’t see him sneer at her, but abruptly Dean realized Mr. Blue-eyed Guru guy had. A flash of amusement from the guy as he wandered around the room, apparently helping adjust people’s form, was all Dean saw before he ducked his head again. He was determined to stay like this for the rest of the class; he might even nap a little with his forehead on the mat. Lisa came down from her pose and nudged him. “You doing alright?” she whispered. 

He raised his head and gave her his most withering stare. “Do I look alright?” he hissed. 

“Come on,” she coaxed, “It’s nearly over. You’re doing great, I promise.” 

Dean groaned and pushed himself up so that his buttocks were resting on his heels. A glance at his neighbors showed that everyone was in the dreaded Downward Facing Dog again. He huffed out a breath and hauled himself into position, his hands splayed in front of him, his butt in the air, and his head down. Abruptly he felt a hand on the small of his back, massaging the tight muscles lightly. He let his head drop further and saw the bare feet of the instructor. His hands were working miracles, somehow easing all of the tension out of Dean’s back and helping him deepen the stretch. Abruptly the magic hands circled his hips and a deep voice suggested softly, “Tilt your pelvis up more. Imagine your sit bones reaching for the sky.” 

Dean didn’t know what his sit bones were or whether they were actively reaching for anything at the moment, but the combination of that voice in his ear and those thumbs rubbing small circles into his back was suddenly unnerving. He felt overly warm and almost hyper aware of his position in relation to the guy. 

Dean stammered out a “yeah, ok”, but the man had already moved onto give direction to another student. 

Dropping to his knees, Dean couldn’t help but watch the instructor move around the class, calling out poses and adjusting form as he moved from student to student. His hips felt like they had been burned where those thumbs had slipped beneath his shirt for just a moment. 

In his daze he failed to notice that Lisa had seen him drop out of the pose and was watching him watch the instructor. Her brow was furrowed ever so slightly at the blush riding his cheeks.

The class finally ended with a pose Dean was certain was his going to be his favorite. He got so comfortable laying flat on his back with his arms and legs totally relaxed, concentrating on his breathing as the instructor's voice was a steady drone in the background, that he was certain he dozed off for a minute or two. 

He got up slowly and rolled up his mat. He was pretty sure he was going to be sore in places he didn’t even know he had tomorrow, but in the end it had been a pretty interesting experience. Not that he was going to tell Lisa that right away, though. She glanced over at him, bright smile affixed, and said, “Come on, I want you to meet Castiel.” 

Dean felt his pulse quicken at finally having a name for the instructor who had proved so distracting for the last half of the class, though he wondered, what kind of name was Castiel? They stayed back for a moment, allowing other students to say their hellos before drifting off. Finally Lisa was leaning in for a brief hug and making the introductions. “Dean, this is Castiel. Castiel, this is Dean, my boyfriend.” 

Dean wiped his hand off on his gym shorts before offering it to Castiel. His hand was enveloped by both of Castiel’s, in an awkward but endearing two-handed shake. Dean couldn't help but stare a little bit, and the guy seemed to stare right back. Up close, he was even more attractive than Dean had realized, his blue eyes were bright and he had deep laugh lines when he smiled. He looked like he hadn’t shaved in a month and his hair was unruly, but hobo-chic seemed to work for the guy. 

Dean tried to follow the thread of conversation, but Lisa and Castiel quickly lost him. Dean was studiously trying to look anywhere but at the fit yoga instructor in front of him when Lisa touched his arm gently. He jumped slightly, guilty color tinging his ears pink, and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Castiel asked you a question, Dean”, she said, her tone just this side of admonishing. 

“Uh, sorry man. What was that again?” Dean asked. Castiel seemed to have a twinkle in his eye as he repeated himself. 

“How was your first yoga class, Dean? I saw you were struggling there for a bit, but you seemed to rally in the end.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, was this guy teasing him? Had he noticed how affected Dean felt from just a fleeting touch? Determined to play it cool, Dean adopted an air of nonchalance and shrugged. “Yeah, man. It was cool, I guess. Seems like you have a strange idea of what taking it easy means, but I powered through, no big.” 

Castiel smiled that half smile Dean was already starting looking forward to. This was bad, he chided himself. “Yes you persevered, and that’s all that matters really. I hope to see you again next week?” 

Lisa’s “oh, no, I think this was a one time thing” rode over Dean’s emphatic, “yeah, maybe Cas” and she shot him an inscrutable look. 

“Oh well, we’d better get going,” she chirped brightly as she started to pull Dean towards the door. 

“It was great to meet you Cas,” Dean called back as he let himself be dragged across the studio, even going so far as to send him an awkward little wave. He couldn’t help but beam a little as Cas waved back, just as dorkily. Yeah, he thought, this was really bad. 

With a quick “bye!” from Charlie, they grabbed their belongings and headed back to the Impala. Dean turned on the radio right away, singing happily off-key to the Foghat blasting out of the speakers. He didn’t notice that Lisa was uncharacteristically quiet during the ride home. 

Dean felt loose and relaxed in a way he hadn’t felt in years, not since before Sam’s accident. He was determined to carry that feeling for as long as possible. Once home, Dean made a beeline for the shower, stripping out of his clothes in a line to the door. He closed the door to the bathroom before Lisa could make an offer to join him in their shared bath. Dean started up the water and stepped in, visions of blue eyes and dark scruff dancing in his head. He didn’t usually react that strongly to men, but every once in a while one would come along and throw him for a loop, and man Cas had him spinning. 

Safe in the cocoon of steam and tile, Dean allowing himself to fantasize about the blue-eyed man. Thinking about how Cas’s hands had been so warm on his hips, Dean grabbed the soap and began lathering himself up, slipping his own hands lower and lower, until he slipped his palm around his growing erection. A few tugs and he was hard and aching with it. In his head Cas was doing more than massaging Dean’s back as he held that pose, his ass in the air. He imagined Cas pulling Dean’s hips back against his own to feel Cas’ erection. Dean’s hand was a blur as he pictured himself rub wantonly against the yoga instructor only to have that deep voice tell him to straighten up so those magic hands could explore him more thoroughly. His fantasy was quickly becoming x-rated as the Castiel in his mind palmed his imaginary self’s erection. His head dropped back on to imaginary Castiel’s shoulder as those nimble fingers dipped into his gym shorts and pulled him free, tucking the elastic waistband under his balls. Dean’s hand matched Castiel’s in his head, tugging in short bursts, then flicking his wrist up and over the head, smearing precome down the shaft and making wet noises that bounced off the tile. Imaginary Cas rubbed his stubble along Dean’s jaw and he was coming with a grunt, his spend splashing the walls only to be rinsed down the drain, leaving no evidence of his activities. He stroked himself through the orgasm, already wondering how he was going to face Cas in class next week, now that he’d jerked off to the thought of the man giving him a hand job in the middle of his yoga studio.


End file.
